


The Purge

by YoonminTrash68



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 94 line BROTP, Angst, Criminal AU, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, HYYH inspired party train, HYYH inspired scenes, HYYH inspired story in a way i guess, HYYH inspired vibes, I APOLOGIZE, M/M, Purge AU, The Purge, bonnie and clyde vibes w taekook, but then namjin fluff-ish, hoseok didn't sign up for this shit, hoseok is a badass, hoseok is also a Mom, lost of namjin angst, namjin - Freeform, prison break - Freeform, save hoseok omg, soft yoonmin, taekook, taekook fluff, taekook makes too many kinky jokes, vkook, wild fun times, yoonmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoonminTrash68/pseuds/YoonminTrash68
Summary: Three stories had always been intertwined and destined to collide. This imminent collision occurs just in time for the day every single one had been waiting for, The Purge.





	1. Chapter 1

Taehyung was running, Taehyung  _ had been  _ running for longer than he cared to remember. His lungs constricted painfully, begging for mercy, but he couldn’t relent now. He whipped around a corner, into an alley, to find no one. With a disgruntled sigh, he continued in his frantic search. 

Dull, purple hair was pushed back by the wind he created as he ran. The massive tears in his jeans, stretching from mid calf to mid thigh, allowed the wind to circulate through his jeans and exposed the tattoos scattered up his right leg. His Vandalized Van Gogh T-shirt moved just as freely exposing the tattoos lining his v-line. Strong eyes set on the fleeting path ahead of his as he moved through the people in the streets. Finally he heard it, pained grunts going ignored by the people of the streets and the cops. He altered his path to find his friend in an alley. Shoved up against a garage door by two men and getting the living shit beat out of him. Taehyung didn’t hesitate. 

“Hey!!” His dark, incredibly low, vicious voice echoed and stopped the men in their tracks. “Back the fuck up you spineless bastards,” he advanced on them dangerously. With a glance to each other, they heeded his warning, and ran away. The third man stayed behind, holding his side in a vice grip, and sliding to the ground. 

“Hey babe, glad you could make it.” His voice was breathless, and too young for this shit. Blood and tears painted the front of the man’s white v-neck. Streaks of blood travelled down the sleeve of tattoos, that travelled up his left forearm, and the tattoos scattered on his neck. His hair was light brown, and fell in loose curls, aside from the strands caught in the blood dried down his forehead. There was a cut just under his brow, fresh blood threatened to blind his left eye. His small bottom lip was busted. Bruises covered his left eye, right cheek bone, and probably his ribs. Taehyung rushed over to his side.

“Kookie you can’t keep doing this shit.” Taehyung gently moved the younger's arm around his shoulders before slowly lifting him back to his feet. He lead the man out of the alley with great difficulty and most of the other’s weight on his shoulders.

“You should see the other guy.” Jungkook smiled weakly at his own words but his friend was less than amused.

“Jungkook-“ 

“Ok ok  _ firstly _ , he was talking shit, and I was beating the shit out of him until his dog stepped in… I’ve seen worse, Tae.” Jungkook interrupted.

“Yeah and I’ve seen all of it, what would you do if one day I just stopped patching you up? Just cut you off?” Taehyung questioned.

“I’d probably die within that week, but you love me too much to let that happen right TaeTae?” Jungkook mused lightly while Taehyung stayed gravely seriously.

“I wish I could say no…” Taehyung sighed with defeat. 

 

Jungkook sat on the kitchen counter of their apartment with random first aid supplies scattered around him and Taehyung hovering inches from his face. He gently smoothed a healing cream over the cut under his brow, then stood on his tippy toes to easily reach the cut on the hairline of his forehead. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Jungkook knew Taehyung. He’s known him since his first year of highschool, Jimin and Taehyung were the only reasons he survived that hell. They endured a lot together and through their shared horrible experiences, they had learned to read each other effortlessly. They often spoke in their own language by only using their eyes, but now wasn’t the time.

“Hm?” Taehyung didn’t direct his attention away from the younger’s busted lip to respond. Jungkook sighed, “It’s hard to hide what you’re thinking when your eyes are right here,” Jungkook waited for the other to look up only slightly and meet his gaze, but he refused to. Jungkook furrowed his brow eliciting a tug on the bandaid that he had yet to grow accustomed to. He was careful not to allow his bloody knuckles to touch Taehyung’s hand as he pulled it away from his lip. The older’s eyes finally shot up to meet Jungkook, who simply raised a brow, prompting his boyfriend to spill. 

“It can wait, babe.” Taehyung twisted his hand in the other’s grasp to hold it still as he began to clean the blood from his knuckles.

Jungkook didn’t flinch from the peroxide stinging his open wounds, he simply watch the other’s eyes, his brows, his lips. All quirking, even twitching every once in a while. He was distracted, something was plaguing his mind, something happened recently, it was still fresh on Taehyung’s mind. It wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, if it were, Taehyung would make more of an effort to avoid looking at his face. No, this was someone else’s doing.

“Is it your dad?” Taehyung accidentally poured too much peroxide on his hand, the smell soaked into his jeans but he didn’t mind, he had his answer. “Did he hurt you?” Jungkook had already slipped his peroxide soaked hand out of the older’s grasp and pulled up Taehyung’s sleeves to check for cuts or bruises, he then pulled Taehyung’s collar down to check around his neck as he continued, “Your sister?” He began to pull up the man’s T-shirt before two shaky hands stopped him. Jungkook looked away from searching the other’s body to see teary, vulnerable eyes. He had seen Taehyung cry many times in their extensive friendship but he had yet to get used to it. He hated watching Taehyung cry but that didn’t stop him from watching and listening. 

“My mom,” Taehyung’s voice was so quiet he barely heard it. Regardless, Jungkook strained his ears to listen intently. “She’s in the hospital because of him, Jungkook… she’s gonna stay there after she gets better… says she can’t take it anymore.” 

Jungkook’s ears burned red, he hated Taehyung’s father with every boiling blood vessel in his body. He could understand getting easily angered, resulting in beating the shit out of whoever thought they could patronize him. But coming home drunk every night and  _ picking a fight  _ with his innocent wife and children… he deserved to die. Jungkook should’ve killed him by now. Better late than never, he thought as he began to push himself off the counter. Taehyung knew exactly what he was thinking, he practically watched the thought formulate behind his eyes. Which is why both his hands rushed to hold Jungkook’s waist in place.

“Jungkook please _ , please  _ don’t do anything stupid.” Taehyung pleaded desperately.

“I won’t, I’m gonna kill him.” Jungkook spoke plainly as if he stated that he was going to buy more milk. He began to stand up again as he spoke but Taehyung frantically pushed him back to sit down.

“Jungkook you cant, you cant,” Taehyung couldn’t hold him back for long. Jungkook effortlessly pushed his hands away and stood up, unbothered by his deeply bruised ribs. 

“If this goes on, then you’re next. He won’t get the chance. I swear to fucking-“ 

“You can’t! Please don’t, Jungkook please!!” Taehyung gripped desperately at his shirt to hold him against the counter but Jungkook kept walking. Taehyung ran ahead and pressed his back against the door. Jungkook didn’t stop, “Jungkook listen!” It’s always worked, every time Jungkook began acting out of line, acting on a whim too dangerous, every time he was about to get himself into trouble that they both knew he couldn’t get himself out of. These words stopped him. Jungkook yielded, nose to nose with the other, he felt Taehyung’s shaky breath ghost over his cheeks when he spoke again, “Listen,” Taehyung’s voice was calmer now, if the smoothness of molasses had a sound, it could be his voice when he spoke calmly. Jungkook seemed to settle where he stood, prompting for Taehyung to continue, he understood. “If you kill him you get caught, easy, there will be nothing I can do to bail you out. If I even walk into that station I’d end up joining you. If you go to jail I’ll have nobody. So if you’re doing this for me, please just stay with me.” He knew that Jungkook was doing this for him, he knew that selflessness had been buried deep inside Jungkook’s character from the beginning, but he couldn’t hide the lingering fear in his eyes, fear that Jungkook would leave him anyway. 

Jungkook always pouted when he was thinking, Taehyung could only watch, worrying his lip and threatening to bite the piercing in the center right off, Jungkook knew his answer, he knew his answer wasn’t the one he wanted.

“I’ll stay with you, babe.” Jungkook knew the other’s fear of abandonment all too well, so he chose his words carefully to calm him. “But if I ever get the chance to kill that asshole without a trace…”

“I’ll do it, I want to be the one to kill him.” Taehyung interjected. Jungkook simply nodded in agreement, it was all either of them needed. 

Jungkook was first to initiate their embrace, he knew Taehyung needed it but didn’t want to ask too much of him. So he held the older for as long as he wanted to, knowing Taehyung would never pull away. 

“Thank you, Kookie.”

“No, thank you.” Jungkook could feel the ache in his ribs from the light pressure but he ignored it, he could ice it later. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimin has been transfered to a new mental facility, it’s a pretty shitting facility but he’d prefer this than the high security one in Busan. The one thing he’d rather not be the same is the fact that he still has a roommate.

Jimin stepped out of the cold ambulance to be ambushed by an even colder gust of wind against his face. The piercings decorating his ears and the stud in his nose seemed to turn to ice in the winter’s relentless cold. He hated the cold, he didn’t want to be here. 

He was a smaller man, with soft features but a sharp jawline, his eyes were rounded in pent up fear, his naturally thick lips were pressed together lightly as he scanned his surroundings. Fluffy, apricot hair was pushed away from his forehead by a second gust of wind, from the inside of the physiatric facility. He pulled his thick knit, blue sweater across his chest tightly, so as to not let anymore cold breach through the loose neckline. The tears in his jeans exposed the skin and tattoos on his knees but he didn’t mind it as much. 

Pristine white walls flanked his sides as he was escorted to his new home for as long as his  _ problems _ persisted. He didn’t like the idea of still having a roommate after his last attacked him. But at least he was given the chance to move to a new facility, maybe his roommate here would be kind, or at least leave him be. Besides, he heard that this facilities’ security was shit, they even let him keep his piercings. Maybe they’d let him skip meals if he so desired.

 

A door with a tiny window was opened and he was gently led inside, the people’s hands were cold here. The room was cold. The door slammed behind him, eliciting a small jump from the small man. He fidgeted with the baby blue sleeves his sweater as he stepped further into the room. Two beds were pressed against symmetrical walls, the furniture was simple, monotonous, minimalistic. Jimin didn’t mind it, he didn’t need much, he certainly didn’t need the company of the man snuggled under the covers in his own bed, sound asleep. Jimin shot the man a wary glance as he approached his own bed on the other side of the room. He looked back to the door to see if anyone was watching, then did his best to quietly push the metal frame towards the wall with the window in the corner. There was the smallest screeching sound but Jimin thought it wouldn’t be enough to wake the other, so he persisted. Eventually the bed was settled in the corner by the window without a disturbance and Jimin was actually quite proud of himself for not waking his new roommate. 

He glanced back to check on the man. 

_ Oh shit.  _ His eyes fell on a disgruntled form, sat straight up, fox-like eyes trained on him, his small pink lips formed a natural pout as he assessed the other. The man allowed the sheets to fall and pool around his thighs, unveiling the tattoos traveling up his neck from his back and across the pale expanse of chest exposed by his low v-neck. 

“I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just…” Jimin pointed awkwardly to the new place his bed rested before pulling at the end of his sleeves- a nervous habit of his. The man squinted at him for a whole minute, Jimin didn’t know what else to do other than squirm under his piercing gaze. “S- I’m sorry,” he tried again, grabbing a handful of his sleeve now. 

“Ahhhhh shit, not again.” His voice was low, smooth, lazy. He ran a frustrated hand through mint green hair, allowing it to fall in lazy waves across his forehead, and resting his hand at the nape of his neck, the monarch butterfly tattoo on the back of his hand seemed to blend in with the others. Jimin shifted awkwardly, twisting the material of his sweater a little tighter now. “I’m not changing my medication again so you just need to go.” The man continued bluntly. Jimin’s jaw fell slack, did this guy really think he was here by choice?

“I- um I can’t, we’re both kind of stuck here… together.” He added the last word halfheartedly.

“Oh what? So are you supposed to be my guardian angel or some twisted shit? Cause I’m not gonna take this today. I’ve had enough mind games in this fucking hell.” The man twisted around in the bed so his full body faced Jimin, who could already feel the aggression boiling in the other. He shrunk back slightly, subtly.

“No this isn’t a game, it’s real, I’m your new roommate.” He spoke softly so as not to trigger the man, whos glare only sharpened. 

“Strange, usually I can will the hallucinations away… you can’t be a  _ real  _ angel… ” The man spoke almost to just himself now. Jimin was extremely confused and uncomfortable now.

“N-no I’m not a hallucination, I’m real.” Jimin was now twisting the living hell out of his sleeve.

“You’re a  _ real  _ angel?” The man’s eyes shot wide open. “Well shit-oh sorry- I haven’t really been… good.” The guy kicked his pillow ineptly.

“No… no I’m not an angel either I’m a real  _ person _ . Park Jimin,” He now pointed at his own chest with irritated enthusiasm. He’s really talking to an insane person right now. 

“You’re real?” The man cocked his head, Jimin nodded his head fervently in response. “...Prove it.” The man raised a brow in provoking inquiry. Jimin’s hands fell to his side… he didn’t really know how to prove that he wasn’t an angel, or that he was real. He’s never really had to. After a long pause the man swung his legs off the bed and stood up, making his way to the door. “I should change my medication again,” he said with a defeated sigh but before he could take another step, a pillow struck the back of his head. The man stopped in his tracks, completely frozen. 

It was as if someone paused their moment here for a solid minute, no one moved, they could only listen to each other breathe. The insane man was first to move, he turned to see Jimin, still with his arm outstretched as if he had just thrown the pillow at him. He pulled it back with a stuttering hesitation, avoiding the other’s eye contact. The insane man had now begun to stride towards Jimin, a dangerous fire behind his eyes.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, I-I don’t- I didn’t mean to-“ Jimin began stepping back, closer to his bed, until his foot caught on the frame and sent him stumbling onto his bed. He sat up quickly to see the man much closer now, too close. “Not again,” Jimin’s mind flashed back to his last roommate, how did he always get stuck with the aggressive ones. He was broken away from his thoughts by two warm hands with lithe fingers and calloused palms, gently cupping his cheeks. Jimin opened his mouth to say something but when he caught the man’s gaze, his thoughts stuttered to a halt. He stayed completely still in the man’s hesitant touch. 

“Oh,” is all the other managed to say for a moment. He let his hands fall away now, “You’re real…” He continued.

“Y-Yeah, I’m- I’m Park Jimin,” Jimin hesitated before stretching out a small hand, he didn’t know what came over him to do so, but now he could only wait for the other to respond, hopefully more positively this time. 

“I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” he reached out his own hand to meet Jimin’s, shaking it gently, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the smaller hand.

“Right,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter is Namjin but ohhhhh bitch, we’re not doing the basic Namjin storyline where they’re like already married and shit so prepare yourself for some ANGSTY BOIS  
> I purple you army


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon returned home to find what he knew to be anything but a pleasant surprise.

Namjoon was tired. He had been out all night, moving from venue to venue, trying to find just one place that would let him on stage, that would let him get his music, his message out there. He just wanted someone to listen, other than Hoseok who was surely listening because he was such a great friend and believed the same principles. 

His pink hair and sharp undercut was hard to see in the light, solely emitted from the moon. His facial features were unique, his eyebrows, nose, jaw, and cheek structure was strong, while his eyes and lips were soft and gentle. His body was more arms and legs than actually body, in the words of his dear friends. He wore a jean jacket with many rips in the sleeves and front, with jean pants to match, unveiling the tattoos scattered across the surface of his skin, while his shirt was simply some old 80s band T-shirt.

Namjoon often rapped about how corrupt the government is, how corrupt society is, how corrupt people are. But no one listened, and he was tired. 

He pulled open the freight door to an abandoned train. It was dark inside, Namjoon used his phone light as he trudged over to a small battery box, he flicked on the fairy lights, allowing a warm, dim light to spread around the room. Now he could turn off his phone light and reach for the second, out of four, battery boxes. 

“I think that’s enough light, don’t you?” A light, airy voice came from behind him. Namjoon whipped around so fast, he could’ve given himself whiplash. His eyes fell on what could’ve been the most beautiful face he’s ever seen, if it weren’t for the gun. Full pink lips and dark hooded eyes settled as if the man was unbothered with the thought of holding a stranger at gunpoint. His features were just as strong as they were soft and gentle, if it weren’t for the gun tipping the scale in favor of strong. He only wore black, torn jeans and a white v-neck that left his collar bones exposed. The tattoo just under his left collar bone read ‘To govern is to control’. One brow raised and almost disappeared behind his hair if it weren’t for the contrast between dark brown brows and silver hair. The dim light from the fairy lights barely illuminated one side of his face, while the other was lit by the moon that’s light still intruded into the cargo train from the open door. “Hands behind your head, if you will be so kind.” He cocked his head dangerously and Namjoon slowly complied.

“What have you done to Hoseok? Where is he?” Namjoon spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes swam with fear but he kept them narrow and set directly on his adversary.

“Oh sweetie, I haven’t killed anyone yet.” The man licked his lips dangerously. His words sent a shiver up Namjoon’s spine. 

“Why are you doing this?” He managed to keep his voice low and calm. 

“It will all be irrelevant to you soon,” The man cocked his gun but before Namjoon could hear a gunshot, he heard glass shattering. And then he watched the man fall to his knees, then to his face. A man stood behind him, with strong features, bright red hair, and a broken beer bottle. His hoodie had several small tears near his shoulders and hips, tattoos peeked through the holes near his hips. His jeans had more holes in the front than material, the higher quarter of his thighs were covered in tattoos.

“Namjoon! Are you ok??” He eyed Namjoon with avid concern.  

“Hoseok! You’re ok!” Namjoon felt a wave of relief wash over the fading panic.

“I wasn’t even close to  _ almost _ dying, what the fuck is going on here? And who the fuck is this guy?” Hoseok waved his beer bottle around carelessly. 

“I don’t know, but I’m very curious…” Namjoon walked over and kicked the gun away from the unconscious body on the floor. 

“Yo, you wanna go all Burn Notice on this bitch?” A playful fire danced behind Hoseok’s eyes as he smirked.

“Oh hell yeah, I’ll take him to the strobe room, you find out what you can about him.” Namjoon took the unconscious body into his arms. 

“Finally a fun job.” Hoseok walked away as Namjoon went his own way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taehyung and Jungkook attempt to go on an ordinary date... by their standards at least

Jungkook and Taehyung walked hand in hand through the park at 2AM, both wearing masks over the bottom half of their face and Taehyung wearing a backpack filled with different colors of spray paint. They loved outings like this together, it was their version of a date, their version was more freeing. The adrenaline, the occasional chase, the art itself, they loved times like this. They already had a favorite spot, under the bridge of the old railroad tracks, sometimes they’d even be bold enough to bring a picnic, but not tonight. Tonight, they just wanted to vandalize some shit. When they reached the bridge, they knew the drill. Jungkook lowered himself off the side of the bridge until he hung by his fingertips, then he dropped 3 meters down. Taehyung tossed the backpack down to him, then followed suit. Jungkook positioned himself so that when his boyfriend recovered from landing and stood back up to full height, they were nose to nose. They were both wearing masks, but Taehyung kissed the younger’s nose through their masks anyway, eliciting a hushed giggle from both of them. 

Now came the fun part, the art. Jungkook held both of their phone lights while Taehyung rummaged in the backpack for his desired shade of blue as they approached the underside of the bridge. 

“Babe, do you think I should draw a dragon again? It took so long last time but I thought it looked…” his eyes fell on Jungkook’s frozen form, one light pointed at the arc of underside of the bridge, the other held limp in his hand. Taehyung paused in his steps, hesitating before approaching the statue that was his boyfriend. “.... babe?... Kook?” He called, no answer. His eyes followed the light and suddenly he understood. 

In blood red paint, each letter was almost 1 meter big, ‘The Purge is coming’ Jungkook allowed the light to shift. Another message ‘The Purge is coming’. Another. Another. Another. They were standing in the middle of one… 

“Let’s go, Tae…” Jungkook’s voice was strong, but his eyes were shaking. This was some high level conspiracy shit.

“We can try the old train…” Taehyung took his phone from Jungkook’s limp hand, then wrapped his own hand around the other’s. Jungkook squeezed back before they continued. 

They made it to the old train, careful not to disturb the wrong side of the compartments considering the rumor that criminals lived here but were not to be fucked with. Jungkook shed the light on the desired wall of the compartment. But there was a message. In blood red paint, each letter was almost 1 meter big, ‘The Purge is coming’. Jungkook turned the light to the neighboring compartment’s wall. The same message. It continued for 7 compartments. Jungkook didn’t know why he felt the need to step between Taehyung and the messages but he did. Just in case. 

“Maybe the old alley…” Taehyung couldn’t keep his hushed voice from shaking, Jungkook only nodded, and grabbed his hand. 

Jungkook was hesitant to shed light on the walls of the alley, and for good reason now. He gathered the courage with time, and shone the light where his boyfriend could paint, if it weren’t for the massive blood red message. 

“We’re going home.” Jungkook spoke with such a tone of finality, Taehyung didn’t feel the need to nod in agreement before taking his hand and leading the way. 

Jungkook stripped off his hoodie the second they entered the apartment, revealing a white T-shirt drenched with cold sweat. Taehyung took both their masks and placed them on the table, resting his full upper body weight on the surface for a full minute. Neither spoke, they only heaved heavy breaths in an uncoordinated unison. 

“There’s no denying it babe… that’s your chance.” Jungkook was first to speak up. Taehyung knew he was right. He couldn’t deny the hunger in his stomach now, the hunger for chaos and revenge.

“I know…” he replied.

“We could get Jimin back.” Jungkook added.

“I know…” he couldn’t formulate any other reply, Jungkook didn’t mind. 

“We need a plan.” Jungkook added. 

“I know…” 

 

It was 8AM now.

Taehyung was typing away at his desktop with nimble fingers gracing the keys. Jungkook was making smoothies for breakfast. The adrenaline from earlier had faded into motivation for the both of them.

“Find anything?” Jungkook placed a large cup on the side desk, he knew better than to place it on the same desk as the equipment. He draped the newly free arm around his boyfriend as he leaned over to see the screen. Taehyung caught a whiff of the smoothie his boyfriend was contently sipping through a straw.

“Is that banana milk?” He scrunched his nose in distaste.

“Yours is chocolate milk and strawberries.” Jungkook answered easily, earning a chaste kiss on his jawline.

“Thanks babe, anyway, I can’t find an exact date, obviously cause the firewalls are hard as fuck to breakthrough but I’m working on it with a friend.  _ But  _ it’ll be about a month from now, so if you have any information on that physiatric facility, that’d be great.” Taehyung turned his eyes from the screen only to have a file thrust in his face, he takes it with a smile, Jungkook uses his newly free hand to push the glasses up the bridge of his boyfriend’s nose. 

“I doodled on it a bit, kind of a rough draft of a plan…” Jungkook took another long sip of his smoothie. 

“Thanks babe,” Taehyung chimed, earning him a chaste kiss on the temple, barely avoiding the thin rim of his glasses. 


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been a week or two now, Yoongi and Jimin has learned to coexist nicely. Both spending most their free time in their room. Again, the security here was shit. Jimin was curious as to why the older was almost always sleeping, but from Yoongi’s stand-offish façade and his short responses to most his questions already, Jimin had gathered that the older didn’t like him. So he tried to avoid bothering him at all costs.

 

Jimin resorted to sitting in the farthest corner of his own bed, learning to crochet, quietly.

“Why are you here?” Yoongi was awake and sitting with his legs still tangled in his covers. Jimin was caught off guard, he usually mentally prepares himself before talking to other people, regardless, he was meant to respond now.

“Oh ah… attempted suicide… 7 times,” Jimin muttered, he probably should’ve come up with a different answer so the other wouldn’t judge him but it was too late now. He avoided Yoongi’s gaze as the man hummed in acknowledgement. “What about you?” He chanced a glance up at the older. Yoongi didn’t seem to be judging him, he didn’t even seem to pity him, it was a refreshing change from every single other person he’d met.

“Ironically I successfully killed a man, then pleaded insanity, turns out I do have pretty bad depression and anger issues if there’s a fancy doctor word for that one.” Yoongi replied flatly. That was the longest answer Jimin had ever gotten, but now he wished he could unhear it…

“Y-you um… you killed someone?” He really thought he was past the stuttering but in the presence of a murderer who seemed to show no remorse, Jimin was fucking terrified.

“I won’t justify myself, but I will explain. My friend got himself into an abusive relationship, the guy was fucking beating him. I couldn’t just stand by and watch… I tried to talk to him about it and tell him to leave the douchebag but… he was too scared, thought he might be killed for it. One night I came over unannounced and I walked in on it… happening. I shot the asshole, three times.” Yoongi kept his eyes downcast as he recalled the memory, Jimin watched him carefully, cautiously. In Jimin’s mind that was fully justified, if he really thought about it, if he had the chance to meet Taehyung’s father he would shoot him five times. “I won’t hurt you but… I can understand if you want to keep your distance.” Yoongi added with a calculating gaze set on Jimin.

“... how come you’re sleeping all the time?” Jimin finally asked. He watched Yoongi’s eyes, he could easily read the shock turn into amusement, then into content and something else he couldn’t identify.

“There’s really not much to do here, unless you want to actually go out and socialize with the certifiably insane.” Yoongi answered with a breathy laugh and a gummy smile, it was a strange subject change, but he certainly didn’t mind.

“Oh!” Jimin hopped up from his own bed and rushed over to Yoongi’s, holding his crocheting basket in his arms. “I can teach you to crochet!” He plopped down onto the foot of Yoongi’s bed and offered him the basket. Yoongi was tired, but he also missed his friends, maybe this could be his new friend if he simply put in the effort. He didn’t know that Jimin felt the same way.

He took two crocheting needles and pulled his lips into a thin line, puffing out his cheeks and resembling a smile. Jimin smiled brightly in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter! Not much to do in this story out of the three but that will certainly change soon ;) I purple you and I’ll see you guys next Wednesday!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE CHAPTER OF NAMJIN FOR YALL mostly because we got A LOT of ground to cover in one chapter and also because I feel bad for going AWOL for a while. My sincerest apologies for that, I became extremely unmotivated for a while but I’m getting my mental health under control though it may continue to fluctuate. I’m doing my best, I purple you guys <3

Jin woke up slowly, with a massive crink in his neck. His closed his eyes tighter then began to flutter them open as he moved to crack his neck. His senses were shocked into action by a wave of ice cold water against his front. Jin’s head shot upright, his eyes blinking away the water dripping from his hair. He started to move his hand up to his eyes but it was tied to the other, behind the back of his chair, he attempted to move his foot but they were both tied to the legs of the chair. His eyes blinked several times before he could fully open them, ears straining to hear footsteps coming closer. His jaw was taken into a calloused, large hand. His head was jerked to each side roughly, a painful but relieving pop coming when he was pulled to the right.

“Who are you and why did you want to kill me?” A familiar voice comes from the owner of the hand. 

“Habits are a dangerous thing, love.” Jin responded with a sly tone, corresponding with his smirk. 

“You think this is a fucking joke?” The taller man’s grip on his jaw tightened painfully, Jin didn’t flinch. 

“You think it’s not?” His smirk grew into a dashing smile, he directed his eyes into the other’s intently. He could see a fire behind the pink haired man’s façade. Maybe it was a fire of curiosity, anger, fear, desire. 

“You’re in no place to play mind games with me, who-“

“I beg to differ, Namjoon.” He only remembered the name from when someone shouted it before he blacked out, but he wasn’t going to tell him that. The shock on the lanky man’s face was beyond entertaining. It had Jin fighting to stifle a laugh, and failing. The laugh that burst from his lips was certainly not something Namjoon had expected, considering his behavior so far, it was light and free… and kind of sounded like squeaky windshield wipers on the fastest setting. His burst of amusement was cut short to a door behind himself opening. 

“Hey Namjoon, I got the shit on this bastard-“ a familiar but much calmer and quieter voice rang from behind him. Jin turned his head as if he had been summoned.

“Ah are you the one who tried to kill me?” Jin smiled kindly as if greeting a neighbor.

“As if  _ you _ have the right to talk,” Namjoon’s mumbling went unheard to the other two. 

“Why yes, aren’t you charming.” Hoseok simply walked around to face the bastard in the chair. A small laptop in one hand and a beer bottle in the other.  

“I’ve been told so, yes.” Jin replied, unbothered.

“Well if you’d like to be a nuisance, I suggest you do it within the next…” Hoseok swished around the contents of his beer bottle with a calculating gaze. “2 minutes, because by then I’ll be more than happy to put you asleep again.” He continued with distaste dripping from his tone. Jin let out a fake, breathy laugh. 

“You’re so hospitable here, however, I’ll have to postpone that little party trick of yours for another day.” Jin allowed his head to fall back, he could feel the dried blood compressing on the back of his neck. 

“Well considering Prince Charming is awake, shall I read aloud?” Hoseok turned his attention to a disgruntled Namjoon. 

“Please,” He was rubbing the bridge of his nose in blatant annoyance at their exchange. Nevertheless, Hoseok nodded.

“Name, Kim Seokjin. Birth-“

“Ah Ah Ah, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jin raised a finger as much as he could in his restraints. “I prefer Jin, but you may also call me flower, Prince Charming, as you have already said, some have called me beautiful killer, angel of death-“ 

“Do we have a gag?” Namjoon raised his voice above Jin’s, his frown lines could be deeper than his dimples by the end of this exchange if they continued this way. 

“I have a bandana,” Hoseok offered.

“That won’t be necessary, you may continue.” Jin’s words drew scandalized looks from the other two.

“Do you need a reminder of who is in the chair here??” Namjoon advanced on the man murderously. But he was stopped by a friendly arm across his chest. Namjoon shot Hoseok another disgruntled look but it wasn’t returned, as the other kept his eyes on Jin. 

“Obviously I’m the only one sitting,” Jin retorted, unbothered by the rage in the man’s eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. Take the beer,” Hoseok offered the second half of his beer to his stressed friend. Ignoring the smart ass remark from behind himself.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him-“ 

“Caaaalm down. Take the beer.” Hoseok shoved the bottle into his friend’s arms. Namjoon half-heartedly took it and waited for his friend to step away before he took a large gulp. 

“So,  _ Kim Seokjin _ . Also known as Angel of Death and the Poisonous Flower. 26 years of age, 5 confirmed murders, 46 cases mysteriously closed-“ 

“Kinda like a domino effect, you kill  _ one  _ person to stop an investigation then  _ another  _ investigation starts then you kill  _ another  _ person to stop  _ that  _ investigation, it’s a vicious cycle really.” Jin interrupted one again. 

Hoseok persisted. “Skilled assassin-“ 

“Damn straight,” Jin butted in once again.

“Wanted dead or alive-“

“We’ll go with dead,” Namjoon raised Jin’s gun on him, Hoseok lowered it again with his finger, eyes still trained on his computer screen. 

“Be reasonable, Joonie.” Hoseok reprimanded.

“Alright, give me three good reasons not to shoot you and collect the bounty on your head right now.” Namjoon raised a brow at the broad shouldered man, sitting calmly in his chair.

“I’m guessing I can’t count on your morals as one of my answers,” Jin cocked his head while raised a brow in turn.

“You guessed right.” Namjoon answered darkly, Jin simply ran his tongue along to bottom of his top row of teeth before continuing.

“Alright, number one, you didn’t get that information legally and you’re not living here legally which leads me to believe neither of you are law abiding citizens who have the option to walk into a police station with my corpse and collect my bounty. Number two, The Purge is coming within a month and I have been living for this day my whole miserable life so you can kill me after then but I need to live to see that day. And three, as fellow criminals, I’m sure you two will have an agenda leading up to and during The Purge and could use a pair of helping, experienced, willing, dirty hands. I can be those hands.” Jin listed coolly and easily. 

“The Purge is a myth, dumbass.” Namjoon waved the gun around dangerously, however Hoseok nodded in agreement with Jin.

“Actually there’s been a lot of talk about it lately. A friend of mine even got into a government file about possible dates. It’s soon, Joonie.” Hoseok informed gravely. Namjoon didn’t trust Jin’s words, nor anyone else’s, other than Hoseok’s. His jaw jut out as he thought. 

“Looks like you’ll live for tonight. Tomorrow’s still undecided, try any stupid shit and I’ll have to make an executive decision.” Namjoon strode past the broad shouldered criminal and slid the door open behind him. “Are you susceptible to seizures?” He added as Hoseok filed out the door without a second glance. 

“No,” Jin answered over his shoulders. 

“Oh, then you’ll love this room.” Namjoon flicked a switch and suddenly, tall bars of light lining every wall flicked on and off rapidly. Jin shut his eyes tight at the unwelcome burst of light. “It’s a rave.” Namjoon mused as he slid the door shut again, leaving Jin to his thoughts, and insufferable lights. 

The moment that Namjoon had joined Hoseok in their shared bedroom- a third remodelled compartment of the train- he corner him with a million questions.

“The Purge is coming? Fuck! When? How long do we have? We need to get Yoongi back before then. What physiatric facility is he in now? Do they have good security? Oh  _ shit  _ don’t tell me you’re thinking of using that bastard to help us bust Yoongi out.” Hoseok sat down on his mattress that laid on the floor with a few stolen blankets atop, gazing up at his distracted friend.

“Yes, The Purge is coming, about one month from now, the date is still under heavy lock and key. I’m working on the firewalls now but we should start preparing now that I have enough confirmation. I agree about Yoongi, the facility has moderate security but it’s mostly focused on the solitary wing, and it certainly won’t be prepared for the plan I’ve devised for getting him out, however…” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Namjoon’s words were threatening but his eyes read to be exasperated. 

“I was  _ planning  _ on hiring a third set of hands… preferably someone down with murder… a sociopath would certainly be preferable.” Hoseok added with a testing tone and a calculating gaze. Namjoon gave an animated groan as he fell onto his own mattress. 

“We can’t trust him, out of all the citizens, the politicians, the criminals, we  _ cannot  _ trust  _ him _ .” Namjoon’s words were muffled by his hands covering his whole face but Hoseok nodded regardless.

“I plan to do more research on him tomorrow, if I can understand what he wants, it’ll be easier for you to trust him and for us to get him on our side.” Hoseok persisted as his friend groaned a second time. 

“Fuck it, I'll trust you, but if he tries something I’ll kill him on the spot.” Namjoon sat up and faced his friend.

“Don’t get blood on my equipment and we’ve got a deal.” Hoseok did the same to mirror his friend. Namjoon nodded with a dimple appearing deep in his cheek. The two friends slapped each other in the face then allowed their hands to slide down the other’s arm until they slapped hands then bumped knuckles. “Till destiny do us part.” Hoseok offered a bright smile. 

“Or the government,” Namjoon smiled just as wide. No one could calm him like Hoseok, after so many years of friendship he’d be disappointed if it were any other way. 

“Or death,” Hoseok added in the absence of their third counterpart. The time was coming soon, soon they’ll be reunited. 

 

Namjoon couldn’t sleep, he tried for hours but he couldn’t. He rolled over will a groan for the umpteenth time now, he took his phone in hand and checked the time. 2:28AM. Another groan. He couldn’t sleep knowing that insane bastard was just two compartments away, whether he was tied to a chair or not, he was obviously dangerous and he wasn’t afraid of them. Which meant he’s been in a similar situation before, which means he’s gotten out of a similar situation before… he wanted to go check… just to make sure he was wrong… he was obviously wrong though. 

He just wanted to check.

Namjoon didn’t have to sneak out of the compartment, Hoseok was an immensely heavy sleeper, so he could slide the heavy door open freely and step across the chains that joined the compartments together. When he reached the strobe room, the lights were still going. It was a shock to his tired eyes, so he stopped them while keeping the light on. He could see the weary figure of the beautiful assassin, still tied to the chair. Namjoon walked around to see his face. His eyes were fluttering open. 

“Did I wake you?” Namjoon mused spitefully. 

“You will be content to know, I couldn’t sleep.” Jin’s voice was hoarse and low from lack of use, or water. 

“Well maybe I can sleep better now, thank you.” Namjoon folded his arms across his chest with a newfound bounce in his heels. 

“Glad to help, are you here to kill me?” Jin didn’t seem too worried by the concept. 

“Nope, just making sure you’re still here and miserable.” 

“How considerate,” The man’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

“Well, while we’re both here and miserable. Maybe we can get to know each other.” Namjoon bounced on his toes once again, amused by the soft groan that made its way past the other’s thick lips. 

“I’d  _ love  _ to, so how many people have you killed, Saint Joonie?” Jin widened his eyes innocently but Namjoon didn’t miss the amusement behind his eyes at the nickname, in his own tired state, he didn’t mind. 

“6, and you? Prince Charming?” He added a small bow to his own entertainment.

“73,” He answered plainly. 

“Have you ever considered a psychiatric facility? I hear they’re warmer than cargo trains.” 

“I hear they’re colder, what about you? Didn’t your mother raise you better than this?” Jin ran his tongue along his teeth again, a fierce hunger burned behind his eyes. 

“My mother didn’t raise me, my father left me a gun at the age of 16, with one bullet.” 

“Interesting,” Jin didn’t sound empathic but Namjoon didn’t expect it from him anyway.

“It was for me, but I found him instead. And what’s your story?” Namjoon cocked his head curiously, dangerously.

“I certainly wouldn’t have chosen the story of 73 murders as a bedtime story, but if you insist, I’ll give you a summary. People can’t be trusted, they all have their own motives, their own goals, and sometimes your goals… collide. So you do what you must and move on, safely alone. I found a career I can pursue where my clients understand and respect that I do not trust them and will kill them if they become too curious, so I’ve been making a living this way since I was young.” 

“So your trust issues killed 73 people?” Namjoon was immensely intrigued by this character now. He shared the same trust issues but surely not the same outcome. 

“The majority was simple business. They all died quickly if it makes you sleep better tonight.” Jin added kindly, sarcastically.

“Thanks,” Namjoon responded with a mirroring sarcasm.

“And what about you? Where does your trust lie?” Jin raised a brow at the taller.

“I certainly don’t trust our government… our society, people, you… I’ve only ever trusted Hoseok, and Yoongi. They’ve yet to abuse my trust.” Namjoon replied thoughtfully. He only realized after the fact that he had just opened his mind and shared his deepest thoughts with a skilled assassin and surely a sociopath.

“Ah, do you think I’ll ever make the list?” Jin mused, Namjoon was caught off guard, he thought the criminal knew his place.

“No way in hell,” He answered gravely, eliciting another wild laugh from Jin. 

“Ahhh I really needed that, well sleep tight,  _ Joonie. _ Thanks for the laughs,” Namjoon couldn’t deny the man’s beauty when he smiled, but he could shut it out by walking away. So he did. He turned off the lights completely as he left.

“Don’t let the rats bite,” Namjoon mused as he slid the door shut behind himself and made his way back to his own bed. 

 

Jin’s eyes began to flutter open again, how he actually fell asleep last night, he didn’t know. But again, he had a huge kink in his neck. Cold water splashing up his front shocked his whole body into a start and the strained movement of his legs and arms reminded him. 

“I was already awake,” Jin shook his formerly soft and dry hair from his eyes. 

“Yeah but it just brightens my day seeing you like this.” Namjoon mused, Hoseok stood not far behind and now pushed past to stand closer to Jin. 

“You want to live to see The Purge, as of recently, whether or not you accomplish that. Considering that, I have a proposition for you.” He was completely right, Jin  _ had  _ to listen to him. “You will assist me and my friend to jailbreak  _ our _ friend out of a local physiatric facility. We will break in on the down low tomorrow and gather vital information that I can’t find online. We will break in guns blazing Friday and retrieve our friend. Understand?” Hoseok stated borderline aggressively. Jin nodded his head along, either in boredom or acknowledgment, only he knew. 

“Why now?” Jin questioned. 

“We want him free to do what he’d please for The Purge,” Hoseok answered shortly. However, Jin seemed content with this answer.

“How interesting,” Jin’s brow furrowed as he thought, both watched him carefully. Eventually Namjoon gave Hoseok a look that read ‘I don’t like how long it’s taking him to think about this’, a look Jin didn’t miss. “I will help you,” 

“Great, we leave at 6AM tomorrow.” Hoseok began to leave but Jin’s next question stopped him in his tracks. 

“Will I have a gun?” Jin inquired. Namjoon was the one to respond now. 

“No way in hell,” 

“Then who will protect us if something is to go wrong?” Jin persisted.

“I will,” Namjoon brandished Jin’s own gun before him. 

“Interesting,” Jin quirked a brow as he leaned back comfortably in his chair.  

Hoseok’s brow furrowed as he glanced between them, he decided it best to remove Namjoon from this for reasons he couldn’t identify. 

“Let's go, Joon.” He spoke quietly, cautiously. Namjoon complied easily. He turned back to meet his friend when they returned to their own compartment. 

“He’s gonna take the gun. The second we set him free, he’ll overpower me, take the gun, kill both of us, and be on his merry way.” Namjoon blurted out but still kept his voice smooth and calm. 

“No, he’s intrigued by us. I think he’s studying us.” Hoseok replied as his mind raced with all the possible outcomes, 

“And you’re ok with that?!” Namjoon’s peaceful demeanor could only last for so long. 

“Yes, he’ll keep us alive and stay close to study us, and that’s what we want from him.” Hoseok explained patiently. Namjoon stared into space with his eyes directed at his shoes for a while.

“Alright, I trust you.” He finally spoke again with defeat and apprehension lining his tone. 

“Good, get some rest, tomorrow will be a long day.” Hoseok smiled kindly and Namjoon returned the smile with dimples carving  deep into his cheeks. 


End file.
